Aftermath
by CharlieTheAstr0naut
Summary: The aftermath for the survivors of Operation Sand Viper (Specifically Keegan).


It was hard to gather his bearings at first, and when he tried to the first time, all Keegan could see was the dust floating among the moonlit atmosphere. He couldn't see the bodies that lay at his feet. He couldn't see any sign of movement or life in the suddenly silent environment. Nonetheless, he took the silence as somewhat of a good sign, as it was better than hearing enemy voices. Seeing how there was no chaos to tame for the moment, Keegan gave in to his weary knees, dropping to the ground and wanting to close his eyes and pass out. He pulled off his helmet, his black hair sticking up unevenly and dropping down slightly towards his forehead as he looked down at his hands. He began to remove his crusty gloves, revealing that his hands were now covered in scabs and bruises along with some blisters sticking out from his palms. Keegan stretched his fingers out, enjoying the relief as the air touched his hands. Finally, a scratchy noise forced him to look up in attention as he scanned the environment. There was static on one side of his head for a moment, and he finally pressed his comm to his ear, trying to make out the voice on the other end.

"Everyone report in…" Keegan looked around anxiously for a moment, scanning the filthy air for anyone.

Then one by one, voices of men spoke, confirming that they were still alive. Keegan wanted to say something, but on his knees, he saw a different world than when he was standing up. He saw dozens of bodies scattered on the ground, some crawling with maggots or other rodents, some looking as if they were in a peaceful sleep, and some frozen with their eyes open in terror. Keegan's breath hitched as he felt a wave of nausea wash over his head, but he hadn't eaten or drank anything in the last three days, so as he gagged, he had nothing to throw up.

After dry heaving for what felt like minutes, Keegan tried to breathe, finding it difficult as he trembled slightly. _What's happening to me? _Finally, he attempted to stand up, finding that the dust had started to settle, making the air much more clear than before, and in this new atmosphere, Keegan spotted a figure that stood not too far away from him. He froze, finding out this this man was not a part of their surviving team, judging by the uniform he wore. The soldier finally looked at Keegan after finishing his struggle to stand up straight, and he, too, froze. They both had no weapon of any sort to finish one or the other off, so they could only stand and stare into their exhausted and shock-ridden faces. Finally, the soldier let out what sounded like a soft cry, shortly before turning around and running (trying to, anyway) away from Keegan.

Not realizing that he was holding his breath the entire time, Keegan exhaled heavily, watching as the man disappeared into the darkness. Part of him wanted to go after the man; To not let him get away. But his legs couldn't obey his mind, so he stayed where he was. He wouldn't be frozen for long though, as he heard a pair of footsteps approach from behind. Anxiously prepared for another fight, Keegan turned around, stopping himself from lunging forward when he saw a faint American flag patch underneath the man's dusty uniform.

Seeing how he was startled, the man stretched an arm out, as if to calm the younger man down, "Easy, man… Easy…"

Keegan recognized the voice, attempting to speak calmly, "Merrick…? Is that you?"

"Yeah… You're Keegan, right?"

Keegan nodded as he tried to simmer his rapid heartbeat.

"Okay… I heard something come from here, and I… I didn't know if it was someone else or…"

Merrick drifted off, clearly shaken by what he had witnessed as well. He cleared his throat, "Everyone's regrouping. Come on."

Keegan finally brought himself to move once more as he followed Merrick, and soon they were both approaching a small group of men, some standing and others sitting on the ground.

The sergeant of the group was going around, counting out how many men were here, counting out Keegan and Merrick last. "Fourteen," He muttered, "And we had one evacuate the civies."

"Yes, sir."

"So… Fifteen then."

Keegan looked around, hoping he may have missed a man or two. But no… There were only fifteen men, and when they started there had been sixty. "We're-We're all we have left…?" Keegan breathed out, shakily.

"Keegan-" Merrick placed his hand on his shoulder.

"We had more than that- W-We had-"

"I know… I know. Try to keep it together, alright?"

"We had more…" Keegan repeated, drifting off.

"Sit down, okay? Just take it easy..." Merrick looped an arm around the young man's torso, gently lowering him to the ground.

Keegan sat down against the dusty ground, resting his arms on his knees. Despite remaining stiff, his hands continued to tremble. His mind went blank, but he wasn't calm either. He felt as if a voice in his head was just screeching out of pure panic, and all Keegan wanted to do was release it externally. But he swallowed thickly, not letting out another sound. _Screaming won't accomplish anything. Crying won't do any good either. _Keegan glanced up at everyone who remained. One man held out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to each man, Keegan included. Other than the sergeant and lieutenant calling in for evac, everyone remained silent; Everyone had a face of stone as they looked around expressionless. Exhaling a quiet, breathful of smoke, Keegan closed his eyes.

_Keep it together, Russ. _

_Just keep it together._

* * *

The fifteen men were evacuated out of the Middle East just hours after the firefight ended. By the time they landed back in the US, the sun was starting to rise. Other soldiers at the fort had gotten word of their heroics, and were anxiously excited to see their return. But when the fifteen men marched wearily out of the aircraft, the soldiers that stood around felt their mood plummet as they observed the expressions on the heroes' faces. They were all tired; They were all thin and dehydrated; They were coming back from a hell that was unimaginable to everyone else that stood around them.

The first thing that these men were told to do was head to the medical bay, where most of them were easily diagnosed with infected wounds, dehydration, and in some cases, because they also spent three days in the scalding hot sun, sunburns that peeled like dead snake skin. When they were all cleared, they could shower, eat, and sleep. But upon scrubbing off the dirt and blood, Keegan went straight to his room, so overwhelmed with fatigue that sleep came easily.

Next came recovery, in which all men were advised to take it easy for a bit. Some left the fort to visit family and friends. Keegan stayed though, finding that the recovery process was easier said than done. He noticed that he was constantly stressed and lethargic, and nightmares were a frequent visitor whenever he slept. He mostly dreamt about Operation Sand Viper. Recurring dreams he had was where he found himself defenselessly walking that desert, scattered with the bodies of his fallen brothers, sisters, and enemies. At the dream's climax, some of those bodies would reanimate, reaching out for Keegan, grabbing him and attempting to drag him down into their unmarked graves.

Keegan would often wake up screaming, shivering in a cold sweat. But when morning came, he stayed silent, acting unmoved much like everyone else. He often wondered if anyone else was affected by Sand Viper, but no one spoke about it, and whenever he looked at his teammates, they looked as if they had let go of that experience. So Keegan tried to let go too, which was, again, easier said than done. The event stuck to him like a venomous snake that latched its fangs deep into his skin, but the only person he's ever talked to about it was his counselor, who he saw more frequently than anyone else. But every time Keegan talked to her about it, he felt as if he was saying the same thing over and over again. He felt bad, but he could also tell that she didn't grow bored or impatient with him talking about it.

"So you're still having sleep disturbances?" His counselor questioned.

"Yes…" Keegan answered quietly.

"Trouble eating?"

"Sometimes…"

"Does it in anyway affect your everyday tasks?"

"No…" Keegan pursed his lips, "Whenever I'm training or down at the shooting range, I sometimes forget about it for a while. You could say it's a distraction from thinking about what happened, I guess."

"Mm hmm…" The counselor nodded before straightening herself up in her seat, "It's not uncommon for people like you to have a hard time after something so traumatizing. It's not a good thing either, I think. The soldiers here especially… They keep fighting through it like nothing happened, but the truth is the longer they stay here and put more trauma on themselves, the more difficult it'll be to cope with what their life has become. I've seen it, and when it gets too difficult for them, they grow more unhealthy. Some resort to alcoholism or worse… I don't want the same for you, Private."

Keegan was silent, and so she continued, "Of course, I can't decide for you whether to stay or go. But if this is getting too much for you to handle, just know that there's no shame in leaving. _None_."

Keegan bit his lip, nodding, "I guess not… But I'd have no idea what I'd do if I leave. Life won't be normal for me like it was before." He paused, collecting his thoughts. The counselor patiently waited for him to respond, and seconds later, he said, "I'm a new person after Sand Viper. I might be this person until I die… So until then, I'm just gonna keep fighting like everyone else."


End file.
